Dear Mr Devil
by Ravyn LaRue
Summary: The Nostalgia Critic writes a letter to Mr. Zebub, hoping to renew his soul-selling contract for the sake of being able to write a good children's book!


It was four in the morning. Doug had insomnia again. He got up from his solitary bed and slumberously dragged himself to the kitchen. He grabbed some leftover turkey from the fridge, threw it between two slices of wonder-bread, turned the Christmas lights on to keep him company. Doug flung himself into his brother's broken armchair and turned on the television, and found himself, as usual, watching lame kid's movies on a throwaway cable channel. As the years went by this ritual made him sadder and sadder. At one point he did this sort of thing for his own benefit, he missed his childhood years and figured he could live vicariously through the children on TV. Tonight, he found himself missing the times when all he cared about was his past. Nowadays he found himself worrying greatly for the future.

The man contemplated that unsure future of his. He had never told anyone, not even his brother, but he longed deeply to have a child of his own. At first he thought his goal was stupid and obvious that he simply wanted to live through the offspring. Yet as he grew older and went through more, he deemed his life to be a fruitless mission, instead he hoped for his potential child to be all the good he could never fully achieve.

As for now, though, he had to be content with babysitting the devil's daughter, since an orphanage would never give a man like him the opportunity to raise a child of his own. Despite his good intentions, everyone feared, if ever given a child, he'd break it.

The nannying gig meant he could keep up with his deal. And nurturing the spawn of Satan as kindly as he could was a win-win situation. He loved his surrogate daughter, though he didn't know how to show it. He just bumbled and wound up making her cry often. He could never be a good dad, he figured.

As he ruminated on his few ambitions along with his many failures, Doug found himself, zoning out. Even those old cartoons couldn't keep his attention anymore. He decided to migrate into the blank white office with only his desk to keep him company. Doug figured it was the purgatory of sorts he needed; at least it might lull him back to sleep. He sat in the office chair, swiveled from side to side, and then came upon an idea. The man grasped a pen in his tentative fingers and wrote.

"Dear ,

Hey, again. It's just me.

I'd like to renew our contract.

Spending time with the kid made me realize just how much uninspired, overused, pandering worthlessness is directed at kids nowadays. I feel like I should change that; I know you can help.

So this month, I'm selling my soul for the ability to write an awesome children's book. I don't necessarily mean a profitable one; I mean an awesome book with actual heart. I'll illustrate it, too, but we both already know I can draw. I got it covered, so I don't need to ask for a package deal. The plot needs originality and a story that isn't tired or manufactured.

I just feel this is something good I could do, you know?

I have an ides for a character: it's about this animal. He's half platypus and half bunny and he knows everything- he knows what'll happen, but he isn't like God or anything. He's flawed. I don't know, it might be a dud, but that's why I'm renewing my contract…

But the platypus-bunny has glasses so he's bullied. Well, he's teased for lots of reasons, but that's the main one. The bullies have to be fleshed out, too, since it's just the dumbest thing to have bland undeveloped characters, even if they are the villains, and nowadays, most bully characters are as subtle as a banshee in a church choir!

I suppose they say, "be careful what you wish for". They also say "don't sell your soul to Satan" but it's too late for that, but I digress. I suppose I'll say what exactly I want in a story, lest you try to trick me again.

What's important is that the book has:

1. A compelling story that isn't cliché and speaks of new for a children's story, like misogyny or cultural appropriation or something. Not only should it have a good story, but it should have a moral that puts all the hack Hollywood-produced morals to shame, but sadly, that really isn't that hard.

2. Interesting characters, more specifically interesting female ones. I sick of every female supporting character being the love interest; that's just lazy! My platypus-bunny or whatever will definitely have some female friends.

3. Oh yeah, and voice that inspires awe and wonder. If all the kids read was my voice, they wouldn't enjoy it, as they should. I need to make something that fills people with the joy I so hope for.

I think that's all I can think of, but I trust you. I know I probably shouldn't, but I've trusted far better people than you, and it resulted in far worse. But hey, it may seem weird, but you're actually a nice guy, man. I'm glad I met you, though I wish it weren't through the terror you made me endure.

Yes, I know I'm not really a writer, so this is a strange request. And yeah, I would make a kid's movie, but I had a disturbing dream of sorts, wherein all my movies were failures; I can't afford remembering that right now. I've spent too much time remembering bad things of the past; you've got to help me make a half-decent future, so a book is how I can do that.

I mean, I remember how much I loved children's books. My brother Rob used to read to me every day; that was the best time of my life. Now when I find myself reading to your daughter, those are the best moments of my recent life. I want more of those moments.

Please, I really think I can do something of worth to someone this way. I would give much more than my soul for this.

-The Nostalgia Critic."

He folded up the sheet of paper he had scrawled upon and slid it into the pocket of his loose jeans. He continued to the living room to find an envelope. There instead he saw his brother, who stirred from his turkey-hangover, sitting about to begin a book. Doug grabbed a notebook from beside the couch.

"Rob?" he began, being nostalgic over his own past for once, as apposed to universally recognized childish things. "Are you just starting that book?"

"Yeah." Said his brother. "Why? Don't ruin it for me like you did with the last one!"

"No, never." Said Doug coyly.

"What, then?" Rob snapped.

"Can you read it to me like when we were younger?"

"What? Why?" Said Rob, confounded. "We're grown men!"

"Aww, C'mon… you can do voices and shit!" Doug pressured, sitting down cross-legged in front of the massive armchair where Rob sat.

Rob saw the big dorky smile that had spread across his brother's face.

He begrudgingly agreed, "Fine."

The older brother began reading 'Dance With Dragons' from his own throne. Doug sat enchanted, with notebook in hand. He wrote: "Dragons! There must be dragons in my story!"


End file.
